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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434433">faith against the night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitola/pseuds/Capitola'>Capitola</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Fantasy, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M, Survival Horror, paranormal horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitola/pseuds/Capitola</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s a large house at the edge of town, going along the other road. There was a lovers’ suicide, or a quarrel or, well, something that left the lady of the house and her lover dead. Stabbed, but they never found the knives. Every time somebody tries to move in ever since, they…” </p><p>“You find them stabbed, but you don’t find the knives?” Caduceus is following along, rapt. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caduceus Clay/Fjord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Multifandom Horror Exchange (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>faith against the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrome/gifts">Chrome</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: </p><p>Super into the religious aspect of this relationship; I'm fascinated by how Caduceus has been a guide for Fjord both in finding the Wildmother and in changing his perception of what a man can be. I'm also interested in Caduceus looking for his own happiness versus doing his duty as a 'good cleric' and how he feels about Fjord contributing to that. Anything about Fjord coming into his own as a champion or Caduceus helping to free him from the dark--I'm into that. And hurt/comfort mixed with horror is my jam.</p><p>-We have a priest and a paladin with Good alignments. Surely they'd stop to help a village who complains of ghosts, or demons, or something worse...</p><p>Title is from "You Are Jeff," by Richard Siken.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On their return from Rumblecusp, they’d decided to take a few months off from being a group to spend time with family, or on other projects. Fjord, having neither, offered to accompany Caduceus back to see his family and the Grove, and though he’s not sure <em> why</em>, Caduceus agreed. Caleb had offered to teleport them closer, but Caduceus had waved him off, saying something about how the journey was a destination in and of itself. They’ve taken a lazy, winding road, along mountains full of twists and turns and monsters that leap from the trees when you’re not expecting them. </p><p>They’ve been a few weeks on the road when they’re set upon by a manticore. It’s a satisfying fight, if not a easy one - after how long they’ve been traveling as a group, it’s hard for Fjord to plan his moves around having only Caduceus at his side - but at the end of it the two of them are standing and the manticore is not.</p><p>When they reach a town the next day, a small farming village in the foothills, they stop in to tell the starosta—a square-jawed halfling woman—that the southeastern road is now clear. Her hand immediately goes to her wallet, beginning to count out a reward for the two of them, but Caduceus stops her with a gentle, proud shake of his head. </p><p>“We don’t need any of that, just glad to leave the road a little safer.” He’s nearly beaming, and Fjord wonders how long Caduceus has been waiting to say that. </p><p>“If you’re so sure,” the woman replies, more than a little taken aback.</p><p>“Of course, of course. We’re happy to help with anything of that nature, too.”</p><p>She glances furtively at the two of them, as if she’s waiting for some sort of trick. Met with only the open, honest look on Caduceus’s face and the passable imitation on Fjord’s, she begins.</p><p>“There’s a large house at the edge of town, going along the other road. There was a lovers’ suicide, or a quarrel or, well, something that left the lady of the house and her lover dead. Stabbed, but they never found the knives. Every time somebody tries to move in ever since, they…” </p><p>“You find them stabbed, but you don’t find the knives?” Caduceus is following along, rapt. </p><p>She nods, not at all perturbed by the interruption. “We’ve sent hunting parties in during the day, but they find nothing. Spending one night in the house, though, they kill each other in pairs.”</p><p>“We’ll take a look, of course,” Caduceus says, faster than Fjord can process “they kill each other in pairs.” Fjord catches his eye, silently, and Cad nods gently, with a look Fjord generally understands to mean <em> trust me.</em></p><p>“Well. I’m sure the tavern has rooms, too, if you change your minds.” She looks uncomfortable with the idea of having even two strangers’ blood on her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“You really think we can do this?” Fjord asks, as soon as they’re out of her office. </p><p>“I don’t see why we shouldn’t. They clearly haven’t had anyone like us try to take out whatever it is in that house, and they’re unlikely to have anyone more powerful just stumble on through.”</p><p>“Yes, but...” But it’s difficult for Fjord to voice the trepidation that he feels at the idea of using themselves (of using <em> Cad </em> specifically) as bait to draw out whatever evil spirits or lurking monsters have taken up residence in that house. </p><p>Caduceus sets a broad hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of this reverie. “I know plenty about ghosts and wicked spirits. I grew up where those things would show up on the doorstep. Whatever’s making people hurt each other in this place should be no match for us, after everything else we’ve seen. I have faith in you, and we always have the Wildmother on our side. Besides,” he adds, smiling at the apparent thought of how much they have going for them, “we don’t seem very likely to stab each other.”</p><p>And Fjord does laugh a little at that, and he nods, Caduceus’s faith once again outweighing his own misgivings. For the moment.</p><p> </p><p>They take an early dinner at the tavern before setting back out, with directions from a somewhat stunned barman. The late-summer evening is still plenty bright, and the sun is only beginning to set by the time they climb the steep rise up to the large, stone house on the hill, something partway between the size of a merchant’s house and a lord’s mansion. Some of the windows are broken, and many of the shutters are hanging off their hinges. But the effect is not particularly sinister or even creepy, just old and more than a little empty. </p><p>The door is shut but unlocked, and creaks open slowly when Fjord pushes at the handle. The air as they step inside is stale, and the floorboards creak under their feet with age. Caduceus lays his hand down on the floor as they go, checking for signs of termites or rot through the wood, but it seems that the timber is still solid.</p><p>Time has certainly had its ravages on other parts of the house. As they explore, room by room, they find what furniture there is in all states of decay. Couches and mattresses are full of holes from rodents and other vermin, and mold creeps in from leaks in the roof. The night ahead looked clear when they were climbing the hill, but they’ve learned not to trust the weather this close to the mountains, and decide to settle in one of the rooms downstairs. They lay out their bedrolls close to a fireplace, where Caduceus stokes a small fire for his kettle as the last light of the evening gives way to gray shadows. </p><p>“I’ll take first watch,” Cad says, not an offer so much as a statement. His eyes are focused on the fire, just out of eye contact with Fjord, but his ears flicker in constant motion, wary and alert. If his resolve is faltering more in the strange house at night than it did on a street in broad daylight, his face does not give much of an indication. </p><p>Fjord nods, not about to argue against a bit of rest after the long day of travel. Though it’s not the most comfortable for sleeping, he keeps his armor on, and his boots - if they’re expecting to be set upon in the night, he’s not about to be caught unawares. Caduceus is close enough that he could reach out and grab his hand, close enough that Fjord can hear him breathing as he turns from the fire and settles in to go to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fjord is back in a schoolroom, and he does not know the answer to the question he’s been asked. He can feel the laughter rippling like waves around him, judgement coming from a faceless teacher who towers high above him though he feels so big and so gawky. There is a stranger in the room and the stranger knows the answer and the laughter at Fjord only gets worse — </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fjord is at sea in a storm, and he can feel the rain beating down as he struggles with a single simple knot, one he knows so well and yet his fingers cannot manage it. The stranger manages the knot and the wind blows Fjord off the rigging, out into the sea, and the sea is all eyes — </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fjord is looking at Caduceus and Caduceus has asked him a question and Fjord does not know the answer. The stranger knows the answer and the stranger looks at Fjord and the stranger has his own face, but his eyes are wicked and his eyes are no different than Fjord’s own and the other Fjord begins to laugh —  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The fire has died down to embers when Fjord wakes with a start. He looks over at Caduceus and sees that the firbolg has fallen asleep, slumped over the footstool he had been sitting against. He smiles fondly at the sight of Caduceus’s breath gently rising and falling, before he remembers where they are, how essential it is that they don’t let their guard down, and a quiet rage flares up in his chest at Caduceus being sloppy enough to fall asleep. He’s just about to try and reach out to shake him awake when he realizes that he can hear something else breathing. </p><p>Slowly, in a fashion that he hopes is imperceptible, Fjord turns in the direction of the sound, and when his eyes light upon the figure his heart stops. </p><p>Crouching not ten feet away is another half-orc, except not another half-orc because its face and its build and its armor are all identical to Fjord’s own. Too scared to be cautious, he meets the gaze of the uncomfortably familiar pair of yellow eyes, as the figure grins and draws a wicked-looking knife. </p><p>It hisses at him, and Fjord leaps to his feet and begins to run.</p><p>His dull, sleep-heavy brain is focused on drawing this double <em> away </em> from the sleeping form of Caduceus, and he picks up his pace when he hears it begin to give chase. Stumbling over furniture, he runs out of the front parlor where they were and down a hallway that seems to wrap around the house. </p><p>There’s no hiding here, and he knows it; they’re on this creature’s home turf, and furthermore he has no idea if there’s more monsters in here. When he thinks he’s put enough distance between the two of them to turn and summon his sword, he does, hardly daring to blink. </p><p>The double is still coming at him, not running so much as <em> barreling </em> straight for Fjord, its motions awkward but surprisingly effective. Fjord stands firm, his blade held at the ready, but the double stops just out of his reach, standing in front of him.</p><p>It's an imperfect, outdated likeness, perhaps intentionally so; the false Fjord’s tusks are barely visible, and its face is stretched in an unnatural, unfaltering smile. The skin is clean-shaven and scarless, and its hair is solid black, no white streaks visible. Ten years ago it would have been like looking in a mirror, now it’s like looking into a warped piece of glass.</p><p>In the brief instant Fjord dares to meditate on the uncanny creature, it lashes out, knife aimed straight for his side before he manages to turn and catch the blade on his own sword. It’s strong, almost as strong as he is, and a few months ago he would have been no match for it. He pushes back against it and it lunges back before making another stab.</p><p>It’s quick, and light on its feet despite a slight flailing that seems to suggest it’s not used to being so tall. If not for months of sparring with Beau, Fjord might have a harder time landing a hit on it, but as things are he knows the openings to look for. When the sword connects with the creature’s torso, it sinks into the armor like it’s no more than flesh, and keeps going far below where it should have hit bone. Skin and false armor begins to reform around the wound, and he’s worried the sword will be swallowed up, and wrenches it free through the still-healing wound. It may not behave like proper flesh, but it makes a sound just like it. </p><p>The creature gives a wheezing, horrible scream, and starts back, blood seeping from the fresh wound. Its form begins to bubble and shift and distend, and Fjord takes the opportunity to take another swing at it but the blow lands wrong and too soon. </p><p>The creature <em> catches </em> the blade in one broad, furred hand, as its form settles into an almost perfect imitation of Caduceus. Blood surges from its palm but it grits its teeth and lunges forward, the shock and the movement sending Fjord falling backwards.</p><p>He lands hard on his back, the creature bending over him as it licks blood from its own palm, that awful grin now worked into Caduceus’s features. It gives another hiss that could almost be laughter, and spins the dagger in its other hand. Something in the movement calls to mind a snake about to strike. </p><p>Even having watched the creature transform before his very eyes, it takes a conscious effort for Fjord to look at the creature and draw no lines to the friend he left sleeping back in the hall — and he’s now awake enough from the scuffle to realize that he should have shouted to wake Caduceus before running from the room like a bat out of hell. The two of them against this creature would have barely been a fight at all; its efforts to unsettle Fjord would feel far less effective with the real Caduceus at his side. </p><p>The creature springs at Fjord and though he is not ready for it he thrusts the sword at it, and just like before it goes through the false breastplate, tearing through flesh and hitting something that feels vital. The creature gives out another awful noise, face twisted in pain and it looks like Caduceus and it <em> isn’t </em> Caduceus, Fjord reminds himself as he twists the blade, feeling every muscle in his shoulders at work. </p><p>Its body begins to warp again, almost folding in on itself as it begins to plummet towards Fjord. He withdraws his sword and dives out of the way, but the only thing that clatters to the ground is the dagger, the body nowhere to be seen. </p><p>He pokes at the dagger gingerly with the blade of his sword, noting runes along the surface. It does not shift or glow or move. He picks it up with equal care, not liking the way it feels warm against his skin. </p><p>Still breathing hard from the fight, he retraces his steps, running back along the hallway to the parlor where he left Caduceus. It can’t have been more than a handful of minutes. </p><p>Caduceus emerges from the door just as Fjord rounds the corner, clutching his staff in one hand and a dagger like Fjord’s in the other. He stands as if to fight, his stance made all the more frightening by the fact that his face and front are covered in blood. </p><p>“Caduceus?” Fjord calls, cautiously, steeling himself for another awful hiss —</p><p>“Fjord?”</p><p>“Oh, thank gods.” He runs to Caduceus, grabbing hold of his arm for a reason he’s not inclined to explore.</p><p>“Where <em> were </em> you? I woke up and I was — there was a —” Caduceus stops, breathes, gathers himself. “It looked like me. And then — ”</p><p>“It looked like me. I know. I fought — there was another one. I chased it. It’s — it’s gone now.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Caduceus says, holding up his dagger unsteadily. “Mine too.” </p><p>“I guess we found the knives, then.” </p><p>“Guess so.” Cad shifts his dagger to the other hand, and reaches over to Fjord’s face, thumb scraping off a bit of blood. "It is <em> you</em>, right?"</p><p>There’s a clever response to assure Caduceus that it’s him, that’ll make him laugh and calm him down. Wryly, he thinks of his nightmare again, the Better Fjord who knew the answers — but in his hesitation Caduceus seems to find the answer he was looking for.</p><p>"Yeah," he says, smiling. "It's you."</p><p>And they go back to the room with the cooling fire, with the daggers they can investigate in the morning. They sit back down, leaning against each other, to wait out the hours until dawn.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks to <a>asterCrash</a> and <a>Winterling42</a> for beta-reading this.</p><p>Comments and kudos are always appreciated &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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